


Late Night Devil Put Your Hands On Me

by MrsAlwaysWrite



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: By order of the Peaky Blinders, F/M, Inspired by Music, Mild Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Swearing, The Garrison Pub (Peaky Blinders)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:41:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25214092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsAlwaysWrite/pseuds/MrsAlwaysWrite
Summary: Now though, it would be wisest for him to leave. Before his brothers did something stupid. Before any fights broke out. Before he did something fucking idiotic.But he couldn't…Because of her.
Relationships: Tommy Shelby/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 46





	Late Night Devil Put Your Hands On Me

**Author's Note:**

> So this one-shot was inspired by the song Teeth by 5 Seconds of Summer (also where the title came from). I don’t normally listen to them but I heard this song and this one shot immediately came to find and I could not get it out of my head. So to save my own sanity, I decided to put it to paper. Ta da! 
> 
> I don’t normally write something like this so constructive criticism is always welcome...plus I’m terrified its going to be terrible.

[Moodboard](https://mrsalwayswrite.tumblr.com/post/623402383583625216/late-night-devil-put-your-hands-on-me-tommy)

  
  


Smoke curled around his head, the tip of his cigarette red as it sat between his lips, a tumbler of whisky in one hand. His shrewd eyes scanned the lively crowd in The Garrison. Leaning his back against the bar, he watched those celebrate around him, his usual stoic expression painted on. It had been a good day for the Peaky Blinders, months of hard work paid off. So now they celebrated even harder, for who knows if they would live to see tomorrow. 

  
  


Arthur and John were laughing and drinking at a booth with Johnny Dogs and a few other lads. Polly had already left, most likely avoiding dealing with the drunken men and her equally drunken nephews. Not that he blamed her. He could already see that his brothers would be useless tomorrow. 

  
  


He had heard the saying, "the devil never sleeps" and thought it was accurate for him. Even now his mind plotted and planned his expansion, how to get the best results of his needs and desires. His mind always worked, never resting, never sleeping. Ready. Hungry for more. Quickly he threw back the Irish whiskey, the burn a pleasant sensation as it coated his throat. Perhaps this is what the devil was missing? Fuck knew that more often than not, whiskey or opium were the only reasons he slept at night. 

  
  


When he finally entered hell, for that was the only place he was destined for, he would recommend the Irish whiskey to the devil. 

  
  


Now though, it would be wisest for him to leave. Before his brothers did something stupid. Before any fights broke out. Before he did something fucking idiotic. 

  
  


But he couldn't…

  
  


Because of her. 

  
  
  


_"Thanks for the drink." She smiled, happily taking the glass from Arthur, who had stopped taking payment of people's drinks, ecstatic to own The Garrison. He was just passing out glasses and shots, drunk on his own excited high._

  
  


_Normally Tommy would reprimand his brother but not tonight. Tonight, Arthur could have his fun._

  
  


_"Anytime, love. Let me know when you're ready for 'nother. Beautiful woman like you shouldn't be without a drink, eh?" Arthur winked._

  
  


_"Oh? Won't you get in trouble with your boss?"_

  
  


_He laughed. "I'm me own fucking boss here. I own The Garrison now! I'm Arthur. And that right there," he pointed at Tommy, who stood just next to her, "that is me brother, Tommy. The best fucking little brother. Yeah, bought me this place, sure did."_

  
  


_Tommy just rolled his eyes and puffed on his cigarette._

  
  


_"Pleasure to meet you both. I'm Helen."_

  
  


_"Yeah, nice to meet you. Alright, I gotta help others but you let me know if you need anything, love, a'right?" With her smile and nod, Arthur moved further down the bar, pulling pints and handing them out no matter if the person asked for it or not._

  
  


_His icy blue eyes drifted over her shamelessly. Black hair in a short bob that drew attention to her long lashes hiding her whiskey eyes. Full red lips, the color of blood, took a sip from her glass, leaving an imprint of her lipstick. A tight dress of black and gold hugged all her curves beautifully. Even in the haze of smoke and dimmed lights, she shone like a masterpiece among children's finger paintings. Even now, he could see multiple pairs of eyes watching her like hungry wolves and her their sacrificial lamb._

  
  


_"Are you a whore?"_

  
  


_She turned to look at him, one perfectly manicured eyebrow raised. "Do you always ask women this?"_

  
  


_"Only the ones that need to be asked."_

  
  


_"No, I am not." She chuckled then spoke as if expecting him to have lost interest. "Not that anyone here could afford me if I was."_

  
  


_He leaned closer, crowding her space to stare into her eyes. He expected her to step back or avert her eyes. Not many people could hold his gaze for long. Perhaps he had some strange Gypsy power after all. But she stared back, meeting his piercing gaze with her own._

  
  


_"I could afford you."_

  
  


_She made a show of looking him over, critically eyeing his expensive suit and his cap, while a single finger traced the rim of her glass. "Maybe...but would you make it worth my time?"_

  
  


_"Oh I can certainly promise that."_

  
  


_To his utmost surprise, she reached over and plucked the cigarette from his mouth only to deeply inhale from it. Her eyes never left his and when she exhaled, smoke slipping out, a sultry smile turned her lips up._

_"Prove it."_

  
  
  


He was not even positive how she always ended up here. Vaguely he remembered overhearing she was a cousin of someone around here. 

  
  


Frankly, he did not give a fuck. 

  
  


He watched her across the bar laughing, a glass of gin in hand. This time she wore a lavender dress, the sequins and beads catching the light with her movements. The color should have been childish, but with the low V cut in the dress and her long legs showing...it was anything but childish. 

  
  


He needed to leave. There were plenty of women he could fuck tonight. Lizzie was just on the way home. He did not need to stay. He did not need to keep his eyes on her. She meant nothing to him. 

  
  


Yet when one of his men leaned over to whisper in her ear causing her to cover that delicious mouth with a hand and giggle...his hand tightened around his empty tumbler. 

  
  


"Harry." He set the tumbler down and motioned for a refill. The bartender quickly filled it before moving onto others who had been waiting longer for his attention. Tommy swirled the amber liquid around slowly, trying to ignore how the color reminded him of her eyes. 

  
  
  


_She lay beneath him, head tilted back, eyes closed as he pounded into her. His suit lay on the ground next to her cream dress. Both haphazardly thrown onto the ground in their lust fueled haste._

  
  


_"Open your eyes."_

  
  


_"Thomas, I...oh fuck…"_

  
  


_He gripped her chin, none too gently. "Open your eyes."_

  
  


_She obeyed, a moan spilling from her lips at his command. He could drown in her eyes, the whiskey color of them causing him to lose his control faster than any glass of Irish whiskey ever could._

  
  


_The bed creaked loudly, the sound of flesh slapping obscenely in the hotel room. With her eyes meeting his own, his resolve broke. His pace became almost animalistic, grunts emerging from his mouth almost in time to her passionate cries._

  
  
  
  


His mind snapped back to the present as he felt someone lean against the bar counter next to him. Slowly he inhaled, the cigarette smoke filling his lungs beautifully. 

  
  


"So what now, Tommy? What's the plan?" His uncle asked, taking a hit of his own cigarette. 

  
  


He continued staring at the whiskey. "Now...now we focus on the races. I have some men looking and soon we will focus on expanding to London?"

  
  


"London? Jesus, Tommy, this not enough?"

  
  


"No. It's never enough."

  
  


He looked over once more and found those whiskey eyes watching him. Their eyes met and he could practically taste her on his tongue. She smirked at him, vibrant red lips tilted up, before turning her attention back to those at the table. 

  
  


Those red lips…

  
  


Those goddamn red lips. 

  
  
  


_His forehead hit the wall in front of him, unable to hold his head up anymore. His eyes, half lidded, were unable to look away. He was trapped. Frozen to this spot. And he reveled in it._

  
  


_She knelt before him, cleavage on full display from this angle. But it was her lips. Those fucking, perfect red lips wrapped around his cock which captivated him._

  
  


_His groan filled the back room of The Garrison. For a brief moment he wondered if he should have locked the door. No need for Arthur to barge in and see his brother getting sucked off._

  
  


_Then a quick flick of her wrist and licking of her tongue killed any coherent thoughts. His mind begged for mercy. To end the most blissful torture he was currently enduring._

  
  
  


"Tom? Tommy?"

  
  


"What, Charlie?" He drolled, keeping his expressionless mask in place. 

  
  


"I'm heading back. Need me to tell Curly anything?"

  
  


"No." He sighed, stamping out his spent cigarette. "I'll come over tomorrow to sort out some of the boxes."

  
  


And then he was alone again. 

  
  


He lit a new cigarette. After this he would leave. No matter what his body was craving. He would leave. 

  
  


He envisioned himself a man who followed his mind. Emotions and desires were fickle things. One minute you're chasing a leaf in the breeze and the next minute you're being chased by a storm. No. He preferred his mind to base decisions off of. His ever swirling thoughts, his gray morals, his driving need to rise up above those who deemed themselves better. Those he trusted. Feelings...they were the enemy. 

  
  


Specific feelings threatened him in the moment watching her. The desire to feel her curves under his hands. To see those entrancing eyes meeting his almost in a challenge as he pounded into her. To have her sweet taste lingering on his tongue. 

  
  


He needed a good fuck. He should stop by Lizzie. But the traitorous part of his brain reminded him it was not the same. It never was the same. 

  
  


She was his siren and never had a woman compared to her before. 

  
  
  


_They lay next to one another in the hotel bed, both trying to catch their breath. Sweat glistened on their skin from the...strenuous activity that just finished._

  
  


_Lazily he reached over and grabbed a cigarette, quickly lighting it. After a long inhale, he held it out, the routine already set. Without a word she took it and breathed in the smoke, a smile on her lips._

  
  


_Those whiskey eyes drifted up to meet his icy blue._

  
  


_"What?" She cooed, handing the cigarette back over._

  
  


_He took it, inhaling both the smoke and her scent left on it. Which one he preferred more, he would never admit out loud._

  
  


_She rolled over so she was half sprawled over him, her breasts pressing against his torso, her chin on his chest, a single finger tracing the tattoo above his heart._

  
  


_"What are you thinking about, Thomas?"_

  
  


_He sighed. "Nothing."_

  
  


_And that was the truth. He found when he was with her, his turbulent thoughts quieted. His memories, fears, schemes and plans settled into the recesses of his mind. For the short time, his mind could rest._

  
  


_"Well then. There's something on my mind perhaps you could help me with." She teased and lightly bit his chest._

  
  


_He smirked, "if the lady insists."_

  
  
  


His attention returned when he saw her rise from the table and head towards the door, her coat over her shoulders. What he did not expect was to see the man beside her, his arm around her waist. 

  
  


It did not matter. 

  
  


They had no obligations to one another. 

  
  


He was going to stop at Lizzie's anyway. 

  
  


Fuck. 

  
  


FUCK! 

  
  


He threw back the tumbler of whiskey, the burn nonexistent compared to the heat mounting in his chest. It was irrational, the anger warming him far more than any alcohol could. Without looking at anyone, he left the glass on the counter and stormed out of the bar. God help anyone who got in his way. 

  
  


Her laughter drifted through the clanging of metal and the grimy smoke in the air, like a warm breeze to push the chill away even for a moment. Tommy followed the sound like a man possessed and only her touch would save him. 

  
  


When he rounded the corner, what he saw made a snarl grace his handsome face. Shadow covered them as the streetlight flickered further down. Helen had her back against the grimy brick building, her hands tangled in the man's brown hair as he pressed himself against her, face burrowed in her neck. 

  
  


Without missing a beat, he continued, his steps never faltering. It was only when he was a few paces away that he was noticed. 

  
  


She opened those gorgeous eyes, pupils blown wide with lust, mouth parted slightly. It was enough to make Tommy hard just seeing her in this state. So familiar yet intoxicating ever fucking time. She turned her head slightly and that was when her eyes met his. 

  
  


"Tom...Thomas?" She stuttered out, eyes wide now in confusion. 

  
  


He stood there watching her, the streetlamp behind him, casting his shadow across the couple in their tryst. 

  
  


"What?" The man suddenly seemed to catch on as Helen stopped responding to his actions. He lifted his head to look at her then followed her gaze. When his eyes landed on Tommy, he immediately stepped back, adjusting his coat and pants awkwardly, refusing to make eye contact. "Mr...um, Mr Shelby...something we can do for you sir?"

  
  


"What do you want, Thomas?" 

  
  


His icy blue eyes remained on her, taking in her disheveled appearance. Without looking away, he addressed the man who had almost been her lover for the night. "Go home or back to the Garrison. I don't care. Just fuck off."

  
  


"Oh ok, Helen, I'll meet you at…"

  
  


"No." Tommy interrupted, finally choosing to glare at the interloper. For a moment he considered just shooting the man to make things easier. "She's busy tonight."

  
  


He opened his mouth as if he wanted to argue but with a swift glance between Tommy and Helen, he turned on his heel and left. 

  
  


"What the fuck was that about, Thomas? Huh? You have no right to step in like that." She spat at him as she adjusted the neckline of her dress then pushed off the wall. 

  
  


Before she could try and leave, Tommy moved forward to stand in her way. He had always liked how she said his name. Everyone else called him Tommy. For some reason she used his full name and he had yet to correct her. The two syllables dripped off her tongue like honey, the sweetest sound. 

  
  


"What are you doing?"

  
  


"Were you going to let him fuck you?"

  
  


She scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Why does it matter? You stopped it before anything could even happen."

  
  


"You were going to fuck him?"

  
  


"Christ! Yes, Thomas, we were going back to my hotel room. Happy now?"

  
  


She tried to push by him but he blocked her. Anger swelled beneath his skin, an almost electric feeling.

  
  


"Why?" He asked, needing to know. Christ he hated it, her answer, but he needed to know. 

  
  


"Why? Why? Because I bloody well wanted to. Because you don't own me. Because I can sleep with whomever I want! Now let me pass. I'm leaving."

  
  


Immediately his arms pressed on the brick on either side of her, caging her in. "That's where you're wrong."

  
  


"Excuse me?"

  
  


"You didn't want to fuck him."

  
  


He watched her, staring into her eyes. The hard line of her mouth and light scoff said one thing but it was the hesitation in her eyes, that faint uncertainty that pushed him. Slowly he moved closer until their chests were pressed against one another and their breath intermingled in the small space between them. 

  
  


"Thomas…" She breathed out.

  
  


He grabbed her chin, forcing her head up. A soft whimper escaped her lips but it was not out of fear. Oh no. He knew she liked it. If the slight tremble of anticipation coursing through her was any indication. She may look soft and gentle...but looks can be deceiving. 

  
  


Roughly he lavished his affections on her neck with open-mouth kisses, sharp nips and soothed it all with his tongue- erasing what that other man had done. Marking her for himself. Claiming her. Reminding her who she really wanted. Who she needed. His hands roamed her body, his touch setting them both ablaze. During this, her hands clutched his coat with a death-grip, pulling him closer. Her moans and pants filled the air around them. Her body responded as if only he held the key to unlocking her desires. 

  
  


Abruptly he stopped, pulling back to look at her. He pierced her with his stare. "Now, say you want me to stop, that you'd rather be with that bastard, eh?"

  
  


"Please...Thomas, please."

  
  


"What do you want, Helen? Mmm?"

  
  


"I want you. Christ, please." She tried to drag him back, to pull him closer but he held firm. 

  
  


"Then you're mine. When you come here, you only fuck me. Yeah? Say it."

  
  


"I promise."

  
  


He moved back into her space, his lips ghosting over her ear. He could feel her heart racing between them. "Say it."

  
  


"I'm yours, Thomas. I'm yours!"

  
  


He pressed his mouth against hers. This was not a sweet and gentle kiss, no this was full of possession and lust. He needed her and he refused to share what was his. What excited him most- he knew she liked it. The way she clung to him, her lips just as desperate and needy as his. After several moments that left them both breathing hard and him aching for relief, he unlocked their mouths to smirk at her. 

  
  


"Good girl. I think you deserve a reward, eh?"

  
  


"Oh?" Her eyes twinkled in the dim light, her lipstick smeared around her mouth and his. "And what's that?"

  
  


He winked, lighting a cigarette. The smoke filled his lungs, yet instead of calming him, his body spiked further with lust as he watched her slowly lick her lips as she watched him. It was going to be a good night. 

  
  


"Shall we?"

  
  
  



End file.
